


In a Spin

by MadamRed



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Living Together, M/M, Nightmare Before Christmas References, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRed/pseuds/MadamRed
Summary: After a competition, Yuri catches a nasty cold and is told to rest. When Otabek comes back from practice, though, Yuri is not exactly sleeping.「Otayuri Advent - Day 17」
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 18
Kudos: 51
Collections: Otayuriadvent2020





	In a Spin

Yuri was breathing hard through his mouth, gloved hands on knees. “Fuck.” He lifted his head, his eyes scanning the sidelines until he spotted Yakov shaking his head as he exchanged some hurried words with Viktor. _Great._

Sniffling, he glided to the closest entrance where Yuuri’s concerned face was waiting for him along with his guards and jacket.

“Ah, good job out there, Yurio!”

Yuri’s eye twitched but he didn’t say anything, still focusing on getting enough oxygen into his lungs and trying not to limp after the last fall... Although the already forming bruise on his right hip was making it really difficult to accomplish even that simple feat.

“Yuri, what the hell happened out there?” Yakov’s stern expression was enough for him to want to go home as soon as possible. His head was pounding and he didn’t have the strength to deal with this right now.

He groaned as he sat down on one of the benches. “Bad day, shit happens.”

“Language,” Viktor admonished. Yuri was tempted to flip him off. “Ah, Otabek! You’re early.”

Yuri turned his head to smile at his boyfriend, but the quick motion was a little too much. Before he had time to process what was happening, he heard a thud, and then Otabek’s hands were on his shoulders. “Yura? Are you okay? You’re very pale.”

“I _am_ pale.” He didn’t even need to look up at the others to know what a lame retort that was. Viktor crouched in front of him, probably to check on him, but Yuri didn’t _need_ them to worry about him. This was nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow, old man.” _Sniffle._

Viktor seemed uneasy as he exchanged a look with Yakov and stood up. “Fine, if you say so.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Otabek declared, straightening up as well. His tone didn’t leave much room for discussion.

Yakov interceded before Yuri could try to convince his boyfriend it wasn’t necessary. “Altin, you’ve just got here, and we need to polish those jump combinations that gave you trouble at the GPF.” When Otabek’s expression remained unchanged, Yakov sighed and gestured for someone else to join them. “Look, Katsuki is also done with his practice so he can walk him back, okay?”

Swallowing the protest on the tip of his tongue, Yuri conceded and untied his skates in a hurry. The new arrangement seemed to appease Otabek enough to stay at the rink, and Yuri knew his boyfriend couldn’t afford to lose any practice of his own, especially with Four Continents and World’s in a few months’ time. With a final kiss to Yuri’s forehead and a promise to hurry up, Otabek went to the gym area to warm up.

Yuri sighed. He was already dreading venturing out into the cold wind and facing the usual reporters lurking outside. When he and Yuuri were two blocks away from the rink, the sneeze he had been holding back finally came out. “Achoo!”

A second later, Yuuri offered him a tissue. “Bless you.” _Was he expecting that?_

“Thank you,” Yuri mumbled and allowed the other man’s voice to fill in the silence as they walked the remaining blocks to his flat.

* * *

“Viktor? Good morning.” Otabek’s voice was hushed. “Yeah, sorry to bother you so early but I don’t think Yuri will be able to attend practice today.” Yuri turned in bed, hissing when his right hip brushed against the mattress. _Bad idea._ “No, he doesn’t seem to have a fever but he could barely stand by himself to go to the bathroom ten minutes ago... A-ha, okay. Is it possible for me to skip as well? I know it—” Otabek paused, and Yuri strained his ears to listen but he only got a few broken words; _forge, path, responsibility_. His boyfriend sighed as he sat down on the other side of the bed. “I understand. Yes, I’ll be there in an hour as planned.”

Otabek moved quietly as he gathered his things and changed into his workout gear before leaving the room.

Yuri startled when Otabek’s hand touched his hair, the only part of him that was visible from under the covers. When did he doze off? “Yura? Sorry. I left you water, juice and some crackers on your nightstand if you don’t feel like getting up but try to eat something later, okay? Call me or Viktor if you need anything. I love you.” The blond hummed when Otabek kissed his forehead and went back to dreamland shortly after hearing the click of the door.

* * *

Instead of doing the drills ingrained in him by now and relishing on the grinding of his skates against the ice, Yuri’s morning was spent tossing and turning, drinking a bit of juice and eating two whole crackers before dozing off again. When he inevitably got up to go to the bathroom, he was at least a bit more coherent than when Otabek’s alarm woke him up at 7 am.

When he returned, he blew his nose for the umpteenth time and answered his boyfriend’s text to let him know he was up, although he didn’t expect a reply any time soon. It was almost 11:30 in the morning now, and Yuri’s stomach was grumbling. He got up in search of food and found a pot with chicken noodle soup.

Warmth spread through Yuri’s chest. Otabek must have taken the time to make it that morning before he left for practice. After texting his boyfriend a long string of hearts attached to a picture of the reheated meal, Yuri sat down and ate in record time. Satisfied, he washed the dishes and promptly returned to the bedroom to sleep the rest of his cold away.

Unfortunately, his nap wasn’t as successful as that morning’s. He groaned as he turned, unable to find a comfortable position.

“Too hot,” he mumbled and kicked off the comforter, scaring Potya, who ran away. “Sorry.” His nasal voice carried through the empty apartment, and he hoped his cat would forgive him when he refilled her food bowl later that day.

Knowing that he wouldn’t go back to sleep any time soon, he decided to relocate to the living room. He grabbed a few blankets and his pillow, and managed to build a comfy nest for him to rest in until Otabek got home from practice. He glanced at the clock above the TV; two and half hours.

Yuri flicked through the channels, scrolled down all the social media apps he was interested in as well as checking every streaming platform he had on his phone. There was _nothing_ to do or watch. He looked down at the device; two hours now.

Letting his head drop against the back of the couch, he looked around the place, fully ready to attempt to nap one more time when his gaze fell on the boxes they never unpacked after they moved in a year ago. He was so bored that even spending his time sorting out the contents of those seemed enticing right now. And it was a quiet enough activity that he wouldn’t get glared at when Otabek asked what he had done all day.

Yuri got up, wincing a bit when his right hip made contact with one of the dining chairs, and sat down in front of the boxes. He opened one, accidentally breathing in the accumulated dust and cat hair, and started coughing. So much for a task that wouldn’t compromise his health.

Once his breathing got back to normal, he looked inside the first box and squealed. His photo albums! His dedushka had put them together for him when he moved to St Petersburg to train under Yakov and then continued to collect as many pictures as he could throughout the years, filling up three different albums.

Flipping through them, all the memories came rushing back, making him smile: the first time he went to an ice rink, the first time he _fell on his ass_ at an ice rink, when he joined a ballet class in Moscow, when he went to Yakov’s training camp—there was a tiny Otabek at the back in one of those. There were also news articles written about him in the local newspapers and official pictures from his competitions mixed in with some candid ones taken by Mila, Georgi, Viktor and even Otabek himself. His dedushka had somehow contacted them and they had all obliged, sending him as much material as they could, obviously not caring whether the photos were flattering or not.

After a few more minutes, Yuri stood, taking the albums with him and putting them on one of the shelves behind the couch and returned to see what boxes number two and three had to offer. Mindful of the dust this time, he cleaned the top before ripping the tape. Giddiness filled his chest when he saw what awaited him. Some of his favourite films were there, gathering dirt. He had completely forgotten he even _owned_ these movies. He grabbed and cleaned each one before storing them inside one of the cabinets in the TV console, filling up the space quickly.

When he saw the last one, though, he grinned and got up again to turn on the TV. The last time he had seen that particular film was a long time ago, probably before he had gone to that first summer camp. According to his dedushka, he used to be _obsessed_ , which, in hindsight, he could now admit was true; the edges of the box showed some wear after so many moves. He popped the disc inside the DVD player and was about to grab the control when he glanced back at his nest.

 _That won’t do._ He went to the bedroom and collected every single sheet they owned to build the biggest blanket fort his tired body would allow him to. Using the back of the chairs to make the sides sturdier and the couch as the back wall, he spread some blankets on the floor until it felt comfortable enough to sit.

Standing back to admire his handiwork, however, he frowned. It was still missing something. He looked around the flat again and spotted the Christmas tree Otabek and him had put together before getting on the plane for the Grand Prix Final. _Perfect_.

Once he had stolen the white fairy lights from the tree and rearranged them inside the structure, he sighed in satisfaction. Now, that was a _hashtag-aesthetics_ worthy blanket fort if he had ever seen one. Turning off the overhead lights, he snapped a few pictures of the whole thing and then sat in the middle, finally pressing play on the movie.

The opening credits rolled, and he recited the words he knew by heart.

_‘Twas a long time ago, longer now than it seems in a place that perhaps you've seen in your dreams_

When the first notes of ‘This is Halloween’ began playing, he saw Potya poking her head around one of the sides of the fort, curious. He sat still as he sang under his breath, not wanting to scare her again, and she slowly approached him and then lay on his lap. He stroked her fluffy fur and continued singing, changing the pitch of his voice accordingly while the characters on the screen came and went quickly. Despite the years, he remembered most of the lines in the song.

Leaning back against the couch cushions he had arranged on the floor for that very purpose, Yuri let one of his favourite childhood movies fill him with peace and holiday joy.

By the time Jack made it to Christmas Town, though, the need to move became apparent, especially after doing _nothing_ all day. He lifted Potya out of his lap and put her on top of the closest blanket he hadn't used for the floor, and stretched before singing a little bit more loudly—and nasally—than was strictly necessary.

_What’s this?!_

* * *

“One more,” Yakov said with a hint of finality, lightly hitting the barrier and leaning on his hands to observe his progress—or lack thereof. Otabek wanted to say something but knew better than to go against his coach.

Resigned to his fate, he obediently went around the rink, ready to execute that one jump combination. _Again_. He didn’t even know how many times he had attempted it; he stopped counting once Viktor and Yuuri left earlier after the Japanese skater ran through his programme flawlessly.

Sweat gathered at the back of Otabek’s neck under the watchful eyes of his coach. He needed to do this _one_ more time so that he could go home and check on Yuri. Knowing his boyfriend, he was surely bored out of his mind.

Otabek took a deep breath as he pushed off the ice, counting the four rotations in his head, before landing and jumping up again immediately afterwards. Three rotations. “Yes!” He raised his fist and turned, racing towards the open gate after receiving an approving nod from Yakov. That was probably his cleanest execution of the day.

“Altin, you’re free to go. But your average is still under 60%, boy.”

Whenever Yakov had something to say about his skaters’ performance, he never bothered to sugarcoat it; they all knew it came from a place of caring—deep, deep down. Otabek learned to accept it a long time ago. “I’ll keep working on it.”

Yakov nodded and was about to walk away when he said, “And tell Yuri that I’d better see him here tomorrow.”

Otabek smiled. The man _did_ care. “Yes, sir.”

As soon as his coach left his side, Otabek untied his skates, cleaned them and stretched before going to the locker room to check his phone and ask Yuri what he wanted for dinner. No reply came, though, not even after he finished showering and putting everything away. Maybe his boyfriend was sleeping?

Waving Georgi and Mila goodbye, he braved the unrelenting, biting cold of St Petersburg and went out of his way to stop by Yuri’s favourite takeaway restaurant to pick up some food. The walk home was short, even with the added detour, but he was more than glad to make it into their building’s lobby—although he almost dropped his keys, gym bag and food in his haste to get inside while trying to stop the music on his phone at the same time.

The doorman, who came down the hall a second later, was kind enough to call the lift for him. Otabek thanked him before climbing inside and pushing the button for his floor. He hummed along to the final notes of the song he had failed to pause and took off his earphones, dropping his phone in his bag.

As he stepped out of the lift, however, strange voices and a melody he wasn’t familiar with reached his ears. He hurried towards the source and, surprisingly, it was coming from their flat. Now that he was closer, he could distinguish Yuri’s voice mixed in with the others. Otabek frowned. Had Yuri invited someone when he was supposed to be resting?

The sounds within the flat seemed to be loud enough to mask his entrance, and so Otabek put the key in the lock and opened the door slowly. He had to force himself not to laugh at the sight that greeted him: in the mess of blankets, sheets and furniture that used to be their living room stood Yuri with Potya in his arms—looking unamused by the whole situation—as her owner danced and sang to her.

Otabek leaned against the frame of the open door, not caring about the noise travelling down the hallway and bothering their neighbours. He bit down on his lip to stop the smile threatening to take over his features. He kind of wished he hadn’t put his phone away.

After a few more lines, Yuri finally twirled in his direction and halted, the words he had been singing dying on his tongue. _“Oh brother, you’re something! You put me in a… spin…”_

_You aren’t comprehending the position that you’re in_

The second Yuri turned to press pause on the movie and let go of Potya, she bolted to the bedroom. Otabek closed the door, left the food and his bag on the dining table, and crossed his arms.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Yuri mumbled, his voice more nasal than in the morning.

Otabek raised an eyebrow and walked over to his boyfriend, who hugged him as soon as he was within arm’s reach. “That explains the film but, what about the fort?”

“Wanted to be cosy to watch the movie.”

Otabek snorted but decided not to point out that Yuri seemed to have spent more time _outside_ rather than inside said structure. “What were you watching, anyway?”

Yuri pushed off of Otabek’s chest. “I thought you recognised it, _The Nightmare Before Christmas_?” Otabek blinked at him. “Seriously? You’ve never seen it?”

“No, never.”

Yuri gasped. Otabek knew exactly how his evening was going to be spent.

“We need to fix this, _asap_.”

There it was.

He sighed as Yuri fiddled with the menu options of the DVD. Otabek went to reheat their food, and then they sat inside the fort, coffee table in front of them and watched the movie. It was endearing to see Yuri so excited while he explained little details about the making-of and smiling as he tried to imitate the voices of the different characters.

Halfway through, though, while Yuri was singing Sally’s song, his back pressed to Otabek’s chest and a blanket on his lap, Potya’s silhouette near the tree pulled Otabek’s attention away from the film. That corner wasn’t so dark the night before.

“Yura, did you take the lights from the Christmas tree for the fort?”

“No...” came the congested reply, followed by a sneeze.

Otabek wrapped the blanket more tightly around Yuri’s body. Clearing up the living room was going to take forever.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this silly fic was enjoyable!
> 
> Remember to check out the collection for more stories! 💜


End file.
